


the secret life of beards

by Sierra



Category: Free!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, rin wins all the awards, stubble!ssk, supportive bf!ssk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 20:34:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7136111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sierra/pseuds/Sierra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rin has an award to accept, and a beard to tame.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the secret life of beards

**Author's Note:**

> the title is in no way related to the 2008 movie. 
> 
> [iska](http://iskabee.tumblr.com/) put the idea in my head via [this](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/CkaEnlAW0AQFMOx.jpg) beautiful piece of art.

* * *

 

“Oi, Rin.” A few languid raps on the bathroom door combined with the sound of Sousuke’s voice nearly made Rin jump out of his skin, and the bottle of _Polo Red_ came close to slipping out of his hand. He recovered in time to catch it, and let out a sigh of relief. “We’re gonna be late. Hurry up.”

“What time is it?” he called.

He heard the shrug in Sousuke’s tone. “Five-thirty.”

“We have forty-five minutes,” Rin said with a scoff. “God, don’t scare me like that. Just give me five more, okay?”

On the other side of the door, the bed springs creaked, and the sound of the television croaked to life. All of that amounted to agreement in Sousuke-language, so Rin turned back to the mirror, giving himself a critical once-over. Carefully, he guided an errant strand of hair back into the side of his ponytail, and ran his fingers through his bangs once more to achieve the rolled-out-of-bed-this-way look. His skin was clear and moisturised, the chapstick on his lips light and tasting faintly of vanilla, and there wasn’t a single wrinkle in his black suit. The deep maroon of the long-sleeved shirt underneath peeked through the lapels, the two top buttons undone for the sake of looking at least a bit casual.

All that remained was the tie—the final touch to the ensemble—but it was out in the bedroom. Rin gave himself a few conservative spritzes with the cologne in all the important places: the hollow of his throat, the backs of his wrists, over the waist. He coughed at the overpowering dash of saffron and sage, covering his nose with the back of his hand and grimacing. It was a fresh, clean smell, straightforward and simple, much like Sousuke. Rin preferred more complex aromas—the intricacies of sandalwood, calypsone, and rosemary woven together in _True Religion Drifter_ , the one he wore daily.

The _Polo Red_ was Sousuke’s favourite. Rin didn’t pull it off the shelf very often, but he could never resist the way Sousuke’s eyes tracked over him in the presence of it, or how Sousuke walked almost imperceptibly closer to him, and Sousuke wasn’t an especially tactile person in public. Rin _enjoyed_ the effect the _Polo Red_ had on Sousuke, and that always made it well worth wearing in the end.

When Rin emerged from the bathroom, the television was turned to a channel broadcasting a live basketball game, and Sousuke was reclined on the bed, one arm tucked behind his head as he scrolled through his phone with lazy swipes of his thumb, looking for all the world as if he’d been waiting hours for Rin.

The beer on the bedside table was half-empty and leaving behind a ring on the glass. An objection rose in his mouth at the state of Sousuke’s suit—also black, clean-pressed, and designed to cut inwards, to enhance certain points of Sousuke’s figure—while he was _lying_ on it.

But what snared Rin’s attention was the stubble still present on Sousuke’s jaw. Sousuke glanced over at him. “About time.”

“What,” Rin said slowly, “are you doing?”

Sousuke cocked an eyebrow, thumb hovering over the screen. “Waiting for you?”

“No. I mean your _face_.”

The beat of silence was damning. Sousuke cleared his throat. “Yeah. I, uh—”

“I left a razor and cream out for you,” Rin interjected, grabbing a coaster and slipping it under the beer before Sousuke could do anything else to grate on him. Rin could pass condensation stains off as a mistake, but Sousuke’s lack of a clean-shaven face was no accident. It was a deliberate act, and one Rin wanted an explanation for. “Didn’t you see them?”

 _That’s the last time he gets ready on his own_ , Rin thought, scowling. Then he recalled that the reason he had forced Sousuke into the bathroom of the guest bedroom in the first place was so that he could monopolise their one, and he fought down the urge to rescind his words. He had given Sousuke the tools and one _very_ simple instruction, as much as it had pained him. The stubble suited Sousuke: it complimented everything else about him, from the way he dressed in plain muscles tanks and worn jeans, to how he held himself. Even Haru, who so rarely deviated from his norm of noticing only water, had commented on it before, even if was a backhanded compliment— _don’t let him shave it, Rin. He looks his age for once._

“I just like how it looks,” Sousuke muttered, having the good sense to avert his eyes. “I thought you did, too.”

“I do,” Rin insisted. It was his turn to look away, cheeks darkening with a flush. “Just not for tonight! We have to look at least a little clean, Sousuke. There’s gonna be photographers and TV crews covering it.”

“Nobody is going to be looking at me,” Sousuke said, a hand reaching out to take Rin’s wrist, and Rin let himself be pulled down to the bed. “You’re the one in the spotlight. And you look like you belong there, except for one thing,” he added, grinning. Rin raised both his eyebrows, and then Sousuke produced the tie and started to sit up. “Here.”

Without protest, Rin let Sousuke flip the sides of his collar up, and slide the tie around his neck. Sousuke’s deft fingers worked over each other in familiar patterns that Rin had never been able to imitate on himself, and when Sousuke folded the collar back down and gave it a few tugs in various directions to straighten it out, Rin surveyed Sousuke’s face again, eyes wandering along the line of Sousuke’s jaw and the dark patches of stubble that covered it, and down to the column of his neck. Rin swallowed around his suddenly dry throat, where a desert had just blown in and dried up all of his saliva.

“If you want me to, I’ll shave,” Sousuke murmured, fingers coiling around the fabric of the tie to draw Rin in close. “It’ll grow back.”

Eyes flickering down to Sousuke’s lips, Rin licked at the inside of his own, hesitating. He was fonder of the rugged look than he let on, and he realised that was what Sousuke was counting on. “It _is_ just an awards show,” he mumbled in thought.

“I really don’t think they care about the boyfriend of the _swimmer of the year_. All the attention’s on you,” Sousuke said, grin broadening. “Just how you like it.”

“Don’t say it like that.” Rin tried to scowl, but the proximity of Sousuke’s mouth was too distracting, and the stubble against his sensitive lower lip was like scraping over hot coals and hoping not to get _burned_. Sousuke seemed to take that as encouragement; he shifted closer, purposely letting Rin feel the coarse hair over his jaw, the heat of his skin. A gentle press of Sousuke’s lips made the last ounce of resistance flee, and Rin exhaled. “ _Fine_ , it stays. But you’re still gonna have to be in all the important pictures, so you’re not getting out of it. That spread for _Number_ magazine is six pages and you’re part of the package, so deal.”

“Sounds fair,” Sousuke mused, his nose nudging against Rin’s cheek.

The screen of Sousuke’s phone lit up with a notification, catching Rin’s eye. He picked it up, unlocking the four-digit code in a matter of seconds; Sousuke used the same one for _everything_ , including but not limited to: credit cards, the apartment alarm code, the password to his laptop. The app Sousuke had been browsing before was Instagram, and when Rin started flicking through the tabs, Sousuke made a grab for the phone, but Rin rolled onto his side, pulling it out of reach.

“Give it back, Rin—” The rest of the protest trailed off as Rin shoved a pillow over Sousuke’s face, quickly finding and opening Sousuke’s profile. He wasn’t familiar with the interface—his contract had a very specific clause about social media, one that never bothered Rin, because he didn’t see the point in posting his life online when he could be _living_ it—but it was easy enough to locate Sousuke’s pictures.

“I’m just curious,” Rin said, curling more into himself so he could keep the phone tucked against his chest as Sousuke tore the pillow off, grumbling under his breath. Rin grinned to himself as the stream of photos started to load. “You’re always messing around and editing pictures, so what are you showing the world, huh, Sousuke?”

“Nothing they don’t want to see,” Sousuke muttered against Rin’s shoulder, sliding an arm underneath him to grasp blindly for the phone, to no avail.

Something warm swelled in Rin’s chest as he passed over each recent picture. All of them were of him and Sousuke, in various places, doing different things. There were a few from an impromptu getaway to the snow a month ago, when the tip of Sousuke’s nose had gone red and he’d complained about the cold every day until they were back in a warmer climate. And one in particular, a shot of them both in scuba gear from their last trip to Australia—Rin grinning with an arm slung around Sousuke’s shoulders and a diving mask in the other—made him glance at Sousuke with a knowing smirk. “I didn’t know you kept these.”

“You don’t even have your phone _on_ you when we go away. One of us has to make sure there’s a record of our life, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be you.”

“True,” Rin admitted, swiping through another four photos of them doing more usual things: going to dinner, hanging around at home on hot days in nothing but sweats and wet towels over their shoulders, visiting Gou at her rally days. Then he came across one unlike the rest—a lone photo of Sousuke taken from an angle clearly intended to highlight his jawline and the strong definition of his eyebrows. The stubble in the image was almost striking against the colour of Sousuke’s skin, and Rin silently questioned how adept Sousuke had become at editing, and in particular how proficient he was with the brightness/contrast tool. He scrolled down a bit to read the caption.

“Hashtag…beard life or no life,” Rin read aloud. He lowered the phone and tilted his head back slowly to find Sousuke looking in the other direction, his lips rolled inwards as he either held in a laugh, or unsuccessfully tried to find an excuse or some way to justify himself. “You know what, I’m not even gonna _ask_.”

**Author's Note:**

> [sierrasuke.tumblr.com](http://sierrasuke.tumblr.com/) and [@sierrasuke at twitter](https://twitter.com/sierrasuke)
> 
> thanks for reading! feedback is always welcome.


End file.
